


Naergon - Lament of the Night

by Niimarie



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Drama, Grief/Mourning, Romance, Why can't I write happy stuff?, do elves even need fireplaces?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 22:48:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13200201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niimarie/pseuds/Niimarie
Summary: It should have been him, not her.Never her.A short tale of how Thranduil met and lost his wife and how darkness claimed the Greenwood in its snare. Mostly movie-verse, but compatible with general Middle-earth canon.





	Naergon - Lament of the Night

The air stood still over the gates of Gundabad, thick and heavy with the smell of blood. Tall and ugly its walls stood up to his troops in perfect mockery, even without the horrid gurgling coming from above the gate.

Laughter.

“My Lord?”

He came to a halt before his lines, who were still trying to stand proudly after all the fighting. As he stood, he thought about the number of dead Elves behind him, the number of families deprived of the return of their kin. His thoughts felt distant, brief glimmers in the void.

He had failed them.

“My Lord, we cannot take this fortress. Retreat is our only hope.”

His general spoke reason. They could not win. Retreat or death were their only options.

“My Lord!”

He blinked. Braigon looked dreadful, his strong face caked in Orc blood. It was no unfamiliar sight, after so many years together, and yet Thranduil had never seen such pain in his eyes. Pain he knew every one of his people shared in.

He had failed her.

“Call for retreat.” The words were daggers to his heart. “We have been defeated.”

He knew the glamour was still in place, but never had the King of the Woodland Realm felt so exposed. It took a mere second to steel his features and regain control, but a second was enough. His enemy knew. More laughter echoed down to them, and he wished desperately that he could have enough strength to climb those walls all by himself and show them whom exactly they were mocking.

But there was no more strength, neither in him nor his people.

There was only surrender.

 

* * *

 

 

**_Amroth waited until the Lady Galadriel returned to Celeborn’s side before voicing his own greeting to the new arrival. Lothlórien had waited long for this day._ **

**_Too long, Móriel thought as she watched the exchange. How often had the new King of the Woodland Realm avoided this council? Rumour had it he’d been licking his wounds after Dagorlad and had hesitated to step into his legacy. Móriel knew the value of rumours, knew how to procure them from here and there. Rumours also spoke of the King’s arrogance._ **

**_Standing at the back among the other members of the household Móriel caught a good glimpse at that arrogance in the way the ellon held himself among those so much older and wiser than him._ **

**_As the lords retreated King Amroth caught her eye, and with a nod of his head signalled her over._ **

**_“My Lord?”_ **

**_“It is clear King Thranduil does not trust us, he hides much.” Amroth’s eyes were trained on him and Móriel followed his gaze. Thranduil and Elrond were exchanging some pleasantries. While the Lord of Imladris was the essence of charm, The King of Greenwood held his mien._ **

**_“What can I do?” She looked up at Amroth, who was in turn studying her._ **

**_“We need to know where his distrust stems from. An ally who withholds valuable information from us is no ally at all.”_ **

**_Her brow furrowed as she lay out a plan in her head. “His entourage is smaller than expected.” That would make the risk of discovery greater. Her concern didn’t go unnoticed._ **

**_“My Nauregil, I have no doubt in your abilities.”_ **

 

* * *

 

 

“You’ve been on campaign for more than a year. Your subjects need your guidance now if we are to keep the forces of gnawing at our borders at bay.” Lanthiron was rubbing his brow, as was his want whenever he grew particularly frustrated with his King. They’d been having this argument for almost an hour now. “The lands around the Celduin have been cleared of Orcs. Can’t you take a little pride in that?”

“I was so close.”

“You did what was necessary.”

“Not enough.” He wished his councillor would just go and leave him be. He was seated at his desk, in a vain attempt to bring distance between him and the other ellon, but Lanthiron just wouldn’t seem to get the hint.

  “Not enough?” The older ellon took a step closer. “We’ve lost hundreds, Thranduil. _Hundreds_. In a single year. Should we have lost our King too?”

“Not enough.”

“Thranduil!”

“She might still be in there.” He noticed he had been digging his nails into the palms of his hands and with a shaky breath tried to relax. He noticed too that his voice was hollow, devoid of any of its usual firmness. No more than a whisper. It was an argument he had no more energy to fight.

Lanthiron the Wise had no reply for him then. They knew, they all knew that she was long gone.

 

* * *

 

 

**_“Hold her arms.”_ **

**_She felt her heart leap as two pairs of leather-clad arms dragged her out of bed. “What?”_ **

**_“Móriel?” A scream came from her left as a third guard lunged at the two maids that shared a talan with her._ **

**_“Let them go.” Thranduil stepped further into the talan. His silver hair reflected the moonlight and gave him a shimmer that Móriel couldn’t help but think treacherously beautiful in the dark._ **

**_His face was steeped in shadow and yet there was no mistaking the two piercing points that were his eyes. As he took a step closer she fought against the iron grips holding her in place._ **

**_“My Lord, these are the servants’ quarters.” She tried to protest, but the Silvan guards only tightened their hold. In the end she had to bite her tongue to fight against the humiliation._ **

**_Thranduil stood at an arm’s length before her, lips quirking as his scrutiny didn’t make her lower her gaze. “You are no ordinary servant, are you?”_ **

**_“My King will not abide such disrespect to members of his household.”_ **

**_“The Elves of Greenwood are so often underestimated, but you will find they are most loyal to their King,” he spoke.  “They told me of Amroth’s spy and reported every one of your movements back to me.”_ **

**_She did not let her shoulders slump, but some of her confidence left her after hearing that. Unable to think of a satisfying response, she clenched her teeth. Her silence didn’t seem to bother him at all. In fact, she realised what a talent for patience he had. She’d misjudged him._ **

**_Not an ellon of rash action._ **

**_“Móriel Fire-Pen. You have amassed quite a reputation. Not very useful in a spy.” One of his guards handed him a notebook clad in black leather. Móriel’s breath hitched at that, a faint sound that he didn’t miss. He knew he had her in his trap._ **

**_As he skimmed through her writings, she caught a spark of curiosity in his eyes._ **

**_“Short-hand?” he looked at her._ **

**_Again she refused to utter a word. No ellon had ever dared to lay hands on her notebooks save Amroth, and seeing another handle one was a bitter sight._ **

**_Closing the little notebook, Thranduil stood a moment in thought. When next he spoke, his voice was laced with the satisfaction of someone used to get his own way. “I have spoken to your King. He agreed that trust must go both ways, and so he has lent your services out to me.”_ **

**_At that last piece she couldn’t hold it. “What?” she asked incredulously. “No, he would never.”_ **

**_“And yet he has.”_ **

**_She was convinced he was lying. He had to be. Amroth had taken her into his service when she was not yet full-grown. She would trust him with her life. He would never betray her so. But the smugness that met her broke her last resolve. Thranduil wasn’t lying, he had no reason to._ **

**_Without any further comment on it he handed her the notebook, a long white hand offering her a fraction of her life’s work back. She dug her nails into the worn leather, eager to know it back within her power._ **

**_Thranduil only seemed amused at her reaction, but then his face turned back into that unreadable mien he sported the most._ **

**_“You will journey back with us to Greenwood. My secretary has already been informed. You will teach him your writing system.”_ **

**_It was a system she’ herself had created and only she and Amroth could make sense of the strange symbols. It was her pride, the reason for her master’s trust in her. The reason she had become his eyes and ears._ **

**_Did that mean nothing?_ **

**_He turned one last time to look at her. As if he’d heard her thoughts, Thranduil spoke “Remember, Móriel Nauregil, trust goes both ways.”_ **

 

* * *

 

 

Sleep evaded him. Every night he longed for it, for the dream-less rest his body so desperately needed. But his mind would not let him. After another wave of nightmares within the claustrophobic confines of his chambers, he decided to barricade himself inside his study. Within its walls he could function. Within he could contain himself, find focus. He didn’t lack focus. He was diligent in his work, day and night. He knew how many wardens would have to be relocated to secure the new borders, knew how much the state treasury would have to set aside for farms burned and crops lost.

The war had drained his people. Their loss could never be repaid.

 

* * *

 

 

**_One year of service._ **

**_The words echoed back to her every time she walked the paths of Greenwood, every time she greeted the Silvan Elves who had befriended her, every time she ate and drank at the King’s table._ **

**_She had found comfort among the Elves of the Woodland Realm, as much as she could hope for, given her circumstances. Aeweth showed her the ways of the court, taught her whom of the staff to respect and avoid, and her brother Arasson was an expert when it came to the palace and its surroundings. She listened carefully and took note and sketch of everything, knowing that Amroth would want to keep a complete record._ **

**_That was part of the agreement. Thranduil would open his gates to her, and in exchange she would tell him everything he desired to know about her master’s realm and the other Elven Lords._ **

**_To all eyes she was an honoured guest at his court, but Móriel learned that Thranduil was not a natural gambler. Wherever she went, one of his guards was never far away._ **

**_One year._ **

 

* * *

 

 

“We must think about the funeral arrangements.”

“What point is there in a funeral when we don’t have a body? Besides, the treasury is practically bled dry as it is.”

“But the people need a place to mourn.”

“The people need to eat, preferably in safety.”

“Then you propose we should do nothing?”

“Do you call defence measures nothing?”

The voices of his councillors were no more than a buzzing nuisance. He kept still, eyes trained to the far right corner of the room as they debated back and forth. His breathing took up all his immediate attention, and he counted the seconds each in or out took.

Four for each intake of air. Eight for each exhale. In. Out. In. Out.

“Ada?” a flash of silver appeared at the door frame. The room fell into silence.

He kept on breathing.

“Ada?”

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

A nervous voice quipped. “Prince Legolas wished to see his father the King.” His nurse. “It’s been so long.”

In.

“Take the child back to his rooms.”

Out.

“But, Ada! Please!”

He shut his eyes.

 In.

Out.

The child’s cries disappeared into the distance.

 

* * *

 

 

**_“Why Amroth?” he asked her one day. “Why pledge yourself to his service?”_ **

**_They were both in the library, Móriel pouring over the maps he had ordered be brought for her use. Her finger began to trace the line that was the Anduin, for a moment lost in the vastness of old memories._ **

**_“My family used to own a farm. That’s where I was born. But soon my father grew restless, and he decided to join Amdír’s court.” She didn’t notice the softness her tone had taken up._ **

**_They often sat and spoke of things lately, usually within the privacy of the library. Mostly it was him asking her questions, and Móriel found it easier with time to talk to him for he was a good listener and never interrupted. It was a quality she’d learned his counsellors valued greatly, and, she had to admit to herself, was a pleasant surprise._ **

**_“Tell me more.” Thranduil waited for her to continue, the edges of his face relaxing as she spoke of a child’s joy in running through the tall grass near the slopes of the Misty Mountains. “My sister would never join in for fear of getting mud on her dress. She was always the more graceful one.”_ **

**_He gave a little chuckle at that and Móriel looked up only to meet his eyes. They were ablaze with amusement, and she almost forgot herself and joined in his laughter._ **

**_But Thranduil got up from his seat and the smile was gone, no more than a memory. “You still don’t trust me.”_ **

**_Ialeth._ **

**_"Never."_ **

 

* * *

 

 

“You cannot continue like this. The boy needs his father!”

“Lanthiron, we should send word to the Lord of Imladris about the enemy’s current position in the south-west of the forest. Our measures aren’t enough to-“

“Do you blame him?”

He glanced up from the latest dépêche from Elrond. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t interrupt me.”

“But do you?”

“Blame him for what?”

“Thranduil!”

He shot up from his chair, his body tingling with more energy than he’d felt in weeks. “Don’t forget your place, Lanthiron.” he warned.”You are speaking to your King.”

“My Lord.” The ellon bowed his head in an apology, though he could tell the reprimand had done nothing to dissuade his counsellor’s disappointment.

Disappointment. Why was that the only thing he seemed capable to inspire?

For a moment he thought he had avoided the ellon’s scrutiny. But Lanthiron had learned under Oropher’s stubbornness and was more than a match for his.

“It is not the boy’s fault.”

“I have failed to save his mother! She is gone because of me! There is no body for him to say goodbye to _because of me_! How can I face him, knowing that?” he demanded to know. He needed an answer from Lanthiron because he himself had none.

He was trembling from head to toe. Whatever black emotion had festered within him finally gave in to the pressure coming at him from all sides, setting ablaze the self-control he had laboured so hard for ever since his return. But the burst was brief, and like a doll he fell back into his seat. Once again he found himself at the bottom of the pit.

“I blame myself.”

 

* * *

 

 

**_Curiosity had driven her there. The palace was completely still, and everyone not tasked with its protection had long ago retired for the night. This had always been Móriel’s favourite part of the day, when only the stars bore witness to her path. No footsteps signalled her passing as she made her way through the palace and to her destination._ **

**_The Queen’s chambers. No one ever spoke of the late Queen, no one uttered her name to Móriel or spoke of her character. The secrets beckoned her closer, until finally she could not take it anymore and stole to the place that might hold some answers for her._ **

**_She’d expected them to be deserted, but upon entering she faltered. Had he known she would come? Had he expected her to sneak around?_ **

**_“If you must be here, at least shut the door,” she heard him say, and not knowing what else to do she followed as instructed. What now? His back was turned to her as he stood by a cold fireplace, and it was clear she’d barged in on a very private moment. Instantly she regretted her decision to stay inside with him. She wasn’t welcome here._ **

**_He didn’t move. The sight of his back was discerning as the silence stretched, but he stood perfectly still, one hand resting on the mantel piece._ **

**_At last he broke the silence. “The story you told me. The one about your family. Was it all a lie?”_ **

**_She bit down on her tongue. Would he even care about the truth? What advantage over Lothlórien could it give him to know the story of one servant?”_ **

**_“Does it matter?” She blinked at his back, confused why he would even bring it up._ **

**_“Why did you come here?” he asked after more silence. His voice, she was glad to notice, had let go of some of its initial tension._ **

**_Rooted to her spot, she considered lying to him again, but decided against it. “No one speaks to me about her. I thought that coming here would give me answers.”_ **

**_“And has it?” He didn’t wait for her reply. “I find myself coming back again and again for the same reason, yet I always find myself with more questions afterwards.”_ **

**_It was the honesty in his words that made her take a step closer. She stilled herself upon realising that she was about to do something very foolish, so it was only one step. Of all things in the world she had never expected_ ** **honesty _. Could he sense her loss of balance?_**

**_“What was she like?” she asked when he again fell into silence. Quickly her mind had formulated a new plan. Something told her that his thoughts were treading down a dangerous path and that there would never again be such an opportunity to win information from him. This was what Amroth had hoped for, a private glimpse into Thranduil’s mind._ **

**_A sudden intake of air. “She was bitter. Bitterness ruled her whole life.”_ **

**_“Why?”_ **

**_“She never overcame the loss of her home. When Doriath fell part of her perished with it.”_ **

**_“When did she leave?”_ **

**_“Come here.” One arm stretched back to her and Móriel finally noticed how her legs had carried her across the room towards him. Against her better judgement she closed the distance and he got hold of her elbow. His fingers closed around it and dug into the fabric of her sleeve and her skin._ **

**_“What do you want from me?” Móriel cried out._ **

**_He finally turned to face her. “I am giving you what you want.” His voice was as forceful as his grip._ **

**_He was a terrible sight. The darkness of the hour couldn’t hide the ruin that was the left side of his face. Her gaze settled on the milky eye, now blind and oblivious where once it had surely been as piercing as its twin._ **

**_How had he even survived such a wound?_ **

**_“When did this happen?” she asked instead._ **

**_“Does it matter?” Her own words, thrown back at her._ **

**_Ialeth._ **

**_Her free arm went up and her hand settled against the dead cheek. It was instinct, responding to such obvious memory of pain. She expected him to draw back or to hiss at her daring. She didn’t expect his healthy eye to flutter shut or his breath to hitch._ **

**_“Take a good look, for the Lady of Light and the Lord of Imladris will want an accurate report as well.”_ **

 

* * *

 

 

“My Lord, I fear we cannot meet the Dwarves’ payment.”

 

* * *

 

 

**_"I never told them your secret.”_ **

**_"What kept you?”_ **

 

* * *

 

 

“They are demanding the Queen’s jewels be returned to Erebor.”

 

* * *

 

**_“Follow me,” she whispered before expertly slipping through the crowd. She didn’t need to look back to know he was at her heels. Thranduil’s face could not mask the traces of boredom brought about by the recital._ **

**_She led him away from the talan and to the edge of the forest._ **

**_“Where are you taking me?” he asked with a laugh at the speed of her lead._ **

**_She only responded with a “You’ll see.”_ **

**_When they came to a stop she felt herself beam up at him, pleased with the awe displayed in his gaze. “This is Mithel.”_ **

**_“Mithel?”_ **

**_She bowed to the eagle before letting her head rest against the soft plumage of its neck. “Because she loves the fog. She often came to visit me during foggy days. ”_ **

**_“What a fitting name, then.” Thranduil bowed too, and the eagle gave out a proud cry before leaping up to rejoin its kin._ **

**_“Have you ever ridden her?”_ **

**_“Once. It was my greatest wish, and she granted it to me.”_ **

**_“No lie this time?”_ **

**_Ialeth._ **

**_Móriel swallowed hard. “None.”_ **

 

* * *

 

 

He drowned out the noise. It made his head spin.

 

* * *

 

 

**_The maid helping her gave a startled cry at the sudden disturbance._ **

**_“You have been avoiding me.”_ **

**_“You shouldn’t even be here.” Móriel hissed back._ **

**_“You are packing?” The question made her turn around. She considered throwing him out or even staying silent. Both would be equally wise._ **

**_“Ríwen, could you check after my horse?”_ **

**_The maid avoided her glare as she scuffled out. So she directed it towards him, in the hope that he would do likewise. “Rumours travel fast in Lothlórien. Ríwen will let everyone know that you’re here.”_ **

**_He ignored that to her dismay. “What has happened?”_ **

**_Why couldn’t he just go? “Amroth knows I’ve withheld information. Lady Galadriel told him.”_ **

**_Thranduil sighed. “She saw me.”_ **

**_She couldn’t say the word so she just nodded. Galadriel had seen his true face and feared the darkness of its making. No one knew what curse lay on a wound of dragonfire, what doom this could bring upon Thranduil’s soul. Amroth had been not openly accused Móriel, but she could see her betrayal etched into his every movement._ **

**_It would be best for all of them if she went away for a few days._ **

**_“I know what you are.” she managed to say. “And you are not the liability they fear you to become.”_ **

**_“You cannot know that.”_ **

**_“I do.” There was no doubt for her.  For the first time she felt like it was her gaze holding him captive, when so often it had been the other way around. When had she made such a mess of things?_ **

**_“Móriel.” He spoke her name carefully, as if he was afraid she would disappear if he wasn’t gentle. “Come with me to Greenwood.”_ **

**_She didn’t want to hear this. “Why? To become_ ** **your _spy instead?” She spat out the word ‘spy’. It had become hateful to her, its meaning corrupt._**

**_“Not my spy. My wife.”_ **

**_She didn’t want to hear this._ **

**_He stepped close, until he could interlace his fingers with hers. His touch was so enticing, beckoning her to give in. “All I am, all I have is yours.”_ **

**_She didn’t want to hear this._ **

**_No. A simple word. So short. Why would it not roll off her lips and bring them all peace?_ **

**_No._ **

**_No._ **

**_“You do not have to leave. I will let it be known that I intend to leave Lothlórien by first light tomorrow.” His voice was so low, she almost missed the tremble in it. “All I ask of you is that you’ll consider my offer.”_ **

**_No._ **

**_Her lips refused her, so she only nodded._ **

 

* * *

 

 

What point was there when even his own body refused to follow his orders?

 

* * *

 

 

**_Amroth found her after many hours. She had refused to watch the Greenwood party leave and instead hid herself deep inside the forest._ **

**_He came upon her shortly after sundown, when the air buzzed with the song of crickets._ **

**_“I didn’t take you for a coward,” he remarked as he sat down next to her against the old tree._ **

**_“Neither had I until recently, my Lord.”_ **

**_He sensed the turmoil in her. Centuries in each other’s company had each given the ability to read the other even when that other didn’t wish to be read. He could see her regret for lying to him. But there was more, something he did not expect to find in his loyal companion._ **

**_“I understand why you did it.”_ **

**_She shook her head in protest and he was not surprised to see tears glistening on her cheek. “It was foolish.”_ **

**_He could have laughed out loud. How often he had said that to himself. The race of Men believed his kind to be above folly and fault, but wisdom something earned, not inherited. “We are all fools in love.”_ **

**_It was a human phrase, yet how fitting he found it to be._ **

 

* * *

 

 

“My Lord?”

 

* * *

 

 

**_“Welcome, King Amroth.”_ **

**_“We are grateful for your invitation, King Thranduil.”_ **

**_The two rulers embraced inside Greenwood’s hall. Every corner of the palace had been polished and adorned for the coming of such an important guest and his entourage. Long had it been since Greenwood had opened its gates to the other Elven realms. Silvan and Sindar both let out calls of joy and the guests took in their surroundings with open wonder._ **

**_Of those present only three people that the King of Lothórien had invited himself. The third was hoping she had been forgotten._ **

**_A pair of piercing eyes told her the opposite._ **

 

* * *

 

 

It should have been him, not her.

 

* * *

 

 

**_Her heart skipped a beat or two when she found him, sitting by the edge of the grove that he’d shown her during her first stay. Like the marble features of a statue the soft light made his skin and hair glow._ **

**_“You came back.”_ **

**_How strange and exhilarating it was to be standing before him once more. Their last meeting had changed whatever had been between them, and his company was both familiar and strange to her._ **

**_“I want you to know about me. Everything.”_ **

**_And she told him how her mother had died shortly after her birth, weakened by the strain of labour. She told him how her father, broken by the loss, had sailed for Valinor. She told him how her sister chose to call her Ialeth, for the destruction her birth had brought to their family. She told him of her journey to the realm of Amdír, how he’d taken her in and how she watched his son grow into the burden of kingship._ **

**_Many things she told him that night, many hurtful, some happy, and all the while he listened to her and held her in his arms._ **

 

* * *

 

 

Never her.

 

* * *

 

 

**_“I once asked you for something.” he spoke softly. “Have you considered my offer?”_ **

**_She turned her head up from where it had rested against his chest. How could she phrase all that she felt in that moment?_ **

**_“Am I to be given hope?”_ **

**_It only took the slightest of movements and her lips found his. There were no words to describe what she felt for him, and as his mouth danced with hers in delicious harmony she knew there never would be._ **

 

* * *

 

 

“Do as you must. If the Dwarves of Erebor have grown so restless, we should not _antagonize_ them.” 

 

Of course his past demons had to join his present ones.

 

* * *

 

 

**_They had been in the study for hours, he working his way through that year’s harvest numbers, she lost in a book in the more ancient dialect of Noldor. They’d settled on a bench, with her head resting against his thigh as both found rest in each other’s company._ **

**_When she first noticed, without saying anything, Móriel took his hand and guided it to her middle, waiting for him to realise too._ **

**_Another kick. Unmistakeable._ **

**_Her husband’s happiness shone brighter that night than all of Varda’s children._ **

 

* * *

 

 

He didn’t need a mirror to know that the glamour was off. Holding it up had become as easy as breathing, but now when even the most simple of functions eluded him its loss was but one more calamity to spare.

He drew little comfort from the fact that he was alone to notice it. What did he care if all knew? What did he have to lose now? She had never cared. He could still feel her touch upon the dead skin, tissue that he’d long thought numb to all sensation. Dead, cursed.

Her warmth had been the only thing that could penetrate the numbness. And still it was there, a phantom of a caress.

He screamed until his lungs gave up.

 

* * *

 

 

**_“And so when Elu Thingol saw the fair Melian, he fell so in love with her that he could not bring himself to depart to the West, and so it fell to his brother Olwë to lead their people across the sea.”_ **

**_“But why didn’t Elu Thingol go West too?” Legolas furrowed his brow. “Didn’t he miss his brother?”_ **

**_“Yes, he did, very, very much.” Móriel led the brush through the soft hair, the exact same shade as his father’s, and placed a kiss on the top of his head. “But he loved his Melian so much, that life without her seemed unbearable to him.”_ **

**_“And had he not stayed and ruled in Doriath we three would not be here to ask those questions. How sad would that be,” spoke a third voice from the doorframe._ **

**_“Ada!” Legolas leaped out of her lap and into his father’s arms._ **

**_Thranduil caught him and spun him in the air, causing the child to giggle in glee. “I hope you have been paying attention to your mother’s teachings.”_ **

**_Legolas nodded eagerly. “Will we see Melian tomorrow, Ada, when we go make flower crowns?”_ **

**_“Perhaps, or you might even cross paths with Vána herself, although I hear she’s fiercely jealous of your mother’s beauty.”_ **

**_Móriel tried to kick his leg but he stood too far from the bed and her foot hit only air. “Indeed, but the Valar only visit children who go to bed early. Say goodnight to your father now and we might get lucky tomorrow.”_ **

**_Legolas’ eyes grew wide in excitement and he got under the covers without protest. Móriel watched her husband draw up the blanket to cover their son’s shoulders and wishing him sweet dreams. No sight could be dearer to her and she let Thranduil lead her out of their son’s room and to their own apartments with an expression he’d often called the likes of warm honey._ **

**_“You were long gone today,” she remarked later on, as she lay nestled against his chest.”What did Lanthiron want?”_ **

**_The hesitation in his answer made her raise her head. “There have been some sightings of bands along the south-eastern border. Lanthiron fears they are coming closer.” He paused. “I wish you wouldn’t go tomorrow.”_ **

**_“There will have to be more than some pack of Orcs to take the Greenwood from us.” She spoke mindfully of his concern. She hated it when people used the name Mirkwood around her, but the Greenwood of old had changed within such a short time-span._ **

**_“You worry too much,” she said after a while, trying to brighten his mood with her confidence. “We will take Arasson and two other wardens with us. They will keep us safe.”_ **

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

They hid their surprise well. If anyone wondered at his appearance, then they did not show it. For three months they’d had no peek at him, but now he stood before his court, clad in splendour and grace, for it was the Feast of Starlight and the King was to open the event with a speech.

The court of Mirkwood was bathed in light for the occasion. The pain, the loss – the war had not beaten them.

And so he addressed his subjects with his usual tone, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned in pride, his eyes sparkling and ever-sharp. Aloof and distant, like the King he had been. Like the King he would have to be.  

It was a mask he swore to never lay down again. A role in a play, he reminded himself. His people relied on him to carry them through into an unknown future and he would not fail them. Inside him there was nothing left to crumble for he had already lost his soul.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Basic translation of my OCs' names:
> 
> Móriel - (Sindarin: night, dark; -iel for maid)
> 
> Nauregil - (Sindarin: naur=fire and tegil=pen)
> 
> Braigon - (Sindarin: wild, fierce; -on for male)
> 
> Arasson - (Sindarin: deer; -on for male)
> 
> Aeweth - (Sindarin: small bird; -eth for maid)
> 
> Mithel - (Sindarin: white fog/mist/the colour grey; -el for maid)
> 
> Ialeth - (Sindarin: cry/all; -eth for maid)
> 
> Amroth is the King of Lothlórien at the beginning of the Third Age, after Amdír (his father) was killed at Dagorlad. Thranduil's father King Oropher died there too.
> 
> Elu Thingol was a Teleri Elf, originally named Elwë, who together with his wife Melian became the first ruler of Doriath and forefather to the Sindar Elves.
> 
> Hope that clears some things up :) 
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoyed it. Thanks!


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